


The One With The Mirror Image

by dreamcatcher (darcangell23)



Series: Until The End Of Time [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: AU, Blackmail, Established Relationship, Future Fic, Kidnapping, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-10
Updated: 2013-07-10
Packaged: 2017-12-18 09:23:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/878238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darcangell23/pseuds/dreamcatcher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt Hummel, a twenty-five year old fashion designer who lives with his fiancé, twenty-four year old Blaine Anderson, finds himself caught up in a whirlwind of crimes committed by a secret from his past no one knows about other than his own family. Now to rescue Blaine from his hostage situation, he must confront and reveal truths  he has been keeping from people. First in the Until The End Of Time series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One With The Mirror Image

**Author's Note:**

> This story is not to be taken lightly. I really hope that you all enjoy this and the main subject of the secret is actually taken from a plot I made for Kurt for an AU Season 4 + RP that I'm building, whose title is the same as the series title. Comments make me smile! Happy reading!

"I'm not going to Russia Blaine."  
  
Blaine stared hard at the man he called his fiancé. Kurt was putting his foot down more reverberantly than ever before.  
  
The curly-haired man had a vacation brochure in his hands, a lovely little classic hotel in the heart of Moscow. He thought they could go there for their getaway from it all vacation before diving head first into wedding preparations.  
  
Kurt was seated in front of his sewing machine, painstakingly yanking out every stitch in a seam that had not been sewn straight. He was a little OCD when it came to his seams. If they were even the slightest bit crooked, he would yank them out and start over.  
  
"Why not?" Blaine protested, folding his arms across his chest. He was clutching the brochure so tightly, the knuckles of his olive skin hands were completely white.  
  
"It's not romantic," Kurt replied quietly, slamming the thread scissors down on the table. He clenched his hands, both gripping the fabric between them like it was a lifeline.  
  
"You're lying to me again," Blaine responded. Kurt turned his head and looked at him for a long moment. "I can tell by the way you're clutching the fabric."  
  
Kurt just stared at him. "Look, you can choose anywhere. Taiwan, Thailand, even Timbuktu! Just not Russia, okay?" His last words were spoken with an air of finality and he picked up the thread scissors again, returning to his work.  
  
Blaine turned away from him in a huff. Kurt was the love of his life and Blaine trusted him but he couldn't help but think that he was keeping something from him. There seemed to be the depths of some dark secret that swam in Kurt's glasz eyes. Blaine could read him well. But why wouldn't he say anything? Why was he not confiding in Blaine? The two of them had always told each other everything!  
  
And then he realized that it wasn't just him. Kurt seemed to be keeping this from everyone. He knew this because after a moment of solitary thought, he remembered, this wasn't the first time his fiancé had expressed his abstention to going to Russia.  
  
Mercedes and Sam had suggested it as a locale for their elaborate wedding and Kurt had immediately put his foot down then too. He'd told Mercedes that she was one of his best friends but if she had a Russian wedding, she could expect him not to show up.  
  
Furrowing his brow at the memory, Blaine traipsed out of Kurt's work room and down the stairs to the kitchen, where he made himself a cup of coffee and sat at the island.  
  
He wondered if Burt would have some insight as to why Kurt was so dormant about not going to Russia.  
  
Glancing up the stairs to insure that his fiancé was not coming down anytime soon, Blaine pulled out his cell phone and dialed Burt's number.  
  
* * *  
  
 _"Just one more Kurt, come on. This is our last night together before who knows when!"  
  
Kurt sighed a ran over his face. "I don't get it Kaden. We're both adults now. They can't stop you from seeing me anymore. So why the spontaneous trip to Russia?"  
  
The one called Kaden turned to look at him, his own glasz eyes fixed on Kurt's. He sighed heavily, turning away to stare down at his empty shot glass.  
  
"I'm not going back Kurt," he said quietly, not able to look him back in the eye.  
  
"You—what?" Kurt asked astounded. His eyes widened to three times their normal size.  
  
The expression on Kaden's face changed to one of anger and without a second thought, he picked up the empty shot glass and chucked it at the wall. Kurt flinched but didn't shy away. Kaden turned on him.  
  
"I'm not going back okay?! I'm not going anywhere near those people! You think you're so great because you grew up with them! You don't know the first thing about my life Kurt Hummel! You didn't care either, did you?"  
  
Kurt stared at him for several long moments.  
  
"That's not true Kaden," he finally choked out.  
  
In response the other man threw his head back and laughed manically. Kurt's eyes filled with fear in the next instant as he drew a knife.  
  
"Stop lying to me Kurt. You always were a good liar. To me, to your friends," he paused and a sinister look crossed his pale features. "To Blaine," he finished.  
  
"How do you know about Blaine?" Kurt muttered weakly.  
  
Kaden's smirk matched the hatred in his eyes as he walked forward, knife gripped tight in his hand. Kurt glanced around the bar but astonishingly, the other patrons were completely ignoring to the two of them. What the hell? Was this normal behavior in a Russian bar? Kurt felt positively terrified.  
  
"I know all about you Kurt and your little gay boy toy. I know all about you but you don't know anything about me."  
  
Kurt swallowed hard and that was when Kaden lunged. The knife made contact with Kurt's stomach and the pale man cried out. Kaden grinned satisfactorily as he watched the other collapse to the ground in pain.  
  
"Let that be a lesson to you," he stated. Hocking back a bit, Kaden spat down on the injured man and stomped out of the bar._  
  
* * *  
  
Kurt sighed heavily, once more setting the thread scissors down and clutching the fabric in his hand. His eyes dropped to the left side of his stomach. The scar was there.  
  
He knew why he couldn't go to Russia and he knew why he couldn't tell Blaine. Russia was where Kaden was. As far as Kurt knew, he had never gotten charged for the attack. And he still didn't have any idea why no one had tried to stop him either.  
  
He couldn't tell Blaine. He couldn't tell anyone. Telling them about Kaden would just invoke more questions and he didn't want them to know. He didn't want them to know who Kaden was. They couldn't know.  
  
Kurt stood up from the table and crossed the room to the window. He pulled back the curtain and gazed out at the busy street of New York City. He hoped and prayed that Kaden would not find him here.  
  
But most of all, he feared for Blaine's safety.  
  
* * *  
  
"Hey Blaine," came the voice of Burt Hummel on the other end of the line. "How are you?"  
  
"Hi Burt," Blaine replied, eyes periodically glancing back at the stairs. He bit his lip. "I'm good. I wondered if I could ask you about something," he continued, deciding it was safer to get right to the point. He had no clue when Kurt might come traipsing down the stairs.  
  
"Sure kid, ask away," Burt replied. Blaine could hear the concern in his voice.  
  
He was silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "Do you know why Kurt won't go to Russia?" he asked finally.  
  
The response he got was not what he had been expecting. Burt was silent on the other end of the line for a good five minutes. This suggested that he knew something that Blaine didn't and for the first time since he'd known the man, Blaine was quite sure he wasn't going to give him any answers.  
  
"Burt?" Blaine prompted.  
  
There was a grunt on the other end of the line, alerting Blaine to the fact that Burt was still there.  
  
"Now you listen here Blaine," the man finally replied, voice extremely firm. "Don't be asking things about Kurt and Russia. It's not a matter that concerns you. Stay out of it."  
  
Blaine was taken aback by Burt's reply. "But Kurt's my fiancé!" he cried in aggravation.  
  
"I said stay out of it Blaine," Burt responded with the same finality Kurt had used just a few minutes earlier. And Blaine could tell where Kurt got it from.  
  
Blaine was quiet for a whole minute. "I don't understand why he has anything to hide from me," he said in a broken whisper.  
  
Burt didn't reply right away. "It's not you Blaine. It's everyone." Blaine waited for him to go on, sensing Burt wasn't finished. "You know everyone's very protective of Kurt. You also know how stubborn he can be. And finally, you know how he would rather put everyone else before himself. Kurt doesn't want anyone to know about what happened in Russia because he's trying to protect you."  
  
"Wait," Blaine said. "Kurt's been there before?"  
  
There was a slapping sound that indicated Burt must have just hit himself in the forehead. "I said too much. Look, just trust me when I say to stay out of it."  
  
Blaine wanted to protest. He wanted to see if he could get Burt to divulge a little more. Kurt had been to Russia and something had happened there. The question was what?  
  
As he promised Burt that he would stay out of it - though reluctantly - and the two of them said their good-byes, he never imagined that he was about to find out.  
  
* * *  
  
Kurt was out later that night. He had been called in for an emergency at the office. Blaine found it peculiar but he didn't say anything. He wasn't sure if Kurt found it out of the norm but if he did, the pale man hadn't said anything.  
  
Instead, Blaine sat in their living room staring at the TV. The news was on but he was paying it no mind, lost in his own thoughts. Tension had polluted the air after the argument that afternoon. And after his phone call with Burt, Blaine felt like he was walking on pins and needles around his fiancé.  
  
They were polite to each other but Kurt's rigid form suggested something was weighing heavily on his mind. After he'd quickly pecked Blaine on the lips and left to take care of that emergency, the younger man had proceeded up to Kurt's work room. The half-finished fabric lay forgotten on the sewing table. That alone had been enough to tell Blaine that his fiancé was not as all right as he might be claiming. Something was definitely bothering Kurt.  
  
Blaine stood up, intending to try and just forget the whole thing, throw the brochure for the hotel in Moscow away and rework their vacation plans.  
  
That was when the power went out. The lamp on the table fizzled suddenly into darkness and the TV went off abruptly.  
  
Blaine stood stock still, confused. It was mid-October so the weather was typical for autumn in New York City but it certainly wasn't bad enough to warrant a power outage. A glance out the window told him something was off because the house next door still had power as did all the other houses in their neighborhood, aside from those whose occupants weren't home.  
  
Thinking quickly, Blaine ran into the kitchen and fumbled around in the drawer for a butcher knife. He hissed when his thumb brushed the blade just enough to make a mild cut.  
  
"Damnit," Blaine spat. He quickly found the handle of the knife and wrapped his hand around it. He completely ignored the cut on the pad of his thumb.  
  
Turning from the drawer, Blaine cautiously held the knife out while slowly making his way out of the kitchen. A banging sound met his ears and his head turned in the direction of the back door. Someone was in the house.  
  
Blaine knew it might be a smarter idea to go hide upstairs or something but he didn't dare put himself in the position of where he might possibly be pushed out an upstairs window.  
  
So instead, he crept along the back hall to the back door. It was swinging slightly, a fact that he noted just barely with his eyes adjusting to the dark. So it must have been kicked open rather than slammed shut.  
  
He held the knife out in front of him with both hands, turning sharply to look around the area. But there were no signs of an intruder.  
  
That he had seen anyway.  
  
A few feet down the hall, Blaine was caught off-guard when he was grabbed from behind, a cloth placed firmly over his mouth. And then, there was nothing but black.  
  
* * *  
  
"What do you mean there's no emergency?" Kurt spat harshly. He was in his office of the design studio he owned. His secretary was looking at him apologetically. "I got a call stating there was an emergency here at the office and you needed me to come in right away!"  
  
He was giving the woman an incredulous look. "I'm sorry Mr. Hummel but I promise you no such phone call went out."  
  
Kurt tugged on his hair in frustration and slight panic. He ran into his office and pulled open the desk drawer, pulling out a small stack of anonymous letters.  
  
There was one thing that had been going on for the past few weeks he hadn't bothered to tell Blaine. Not because he didn't take it seriously, but because he didn't know how. And he'd been putting it off in an effort to figure out how to breech the subject with the younger man. How did you tell man you loved that you were getting anonymous letters threatening his life?  
  
Kurt looked over the letters. They were all typed so it wasn't like he could attempt to decipher handwriting. They all used similar wording but they all said the same thing. 'Your fiancé better watch out if he knows what's good for him.' Kurt got the message. Blaine was being threatened. But why were the letters delivered to him?  
  
He sat down at his desk and stared at the letters. They were signed with a single solitary letter L. He didn't have a clue who that could point to or why they would have it out for Blaine. Or maybe, they had it out for Kurt and were using Blaine as bait.  
  
Something clicked in his head and he jumped up in a panic. Of course! How could he have been so stupid?!  
  
He'd been called in for an emergency at an unusual time and than he secretary claimed there was none. It was a set up! Blaine was in trouble.  
  
"Shit!" Kurt spat out. He dropped the letters carelessly and bolted from the office.  
  
* * *  
  
When Kurt arrived home, he felt a cold fear climb up his spine. The house was dark. Blaine's car was still in the driveway, which indicated he was home. And Kurt was aware that Blaine wouldn't have gone to bed yet.  
  
Something was off.  
  
Kurt carefully got out of his car and opened the front door. "Blaine?" he called. There was no answer. Deafening silence sunk in all around him. He retreated further into the house. "Blaine?" he called a second time. Still no answer.  
  
He cautiously made his way into the back hallway and that was when his eyes had adjusted enough to give him the first real indication that something had happened.  
  
The back door was swinging as though it had been kicked in. There was an object lying on the floor a few feet from the door. Kurt swallowed and started toward it. He knelt on the floor to pick it up.  
  
A butcher knife.  
  
"Blaine!" Kurt choked out, swallowing hard. Blaine was gone. Kurt had no idea where. But how could he have not heeded those letters and stupidly gone into the office?  
  
It was a ploy. Whoever had taken Blaine had wanted to get Kurt out of the house. They must have known him well enough to know that he would always run to the rescue at the first sign of an emergency at work. Clever son of a bitch.  
  
Kurt shakily pulled his cell phone from his pocket and fumbled to dial those three simple numbers.  
  
"9-1-1, what's your emergency?" the operator picked up immediately.  
  
"Yes…" Kurt choked. He shut his eyes and swallowed hard. "I'd like to report that I think my fiancé has been kidnapped."  
  
* * *  
  
Blaine groaned heavily. He could feel the burn of something rough binding his wrists together. Where was he? How long was he out for? What was the last thing that had happened?  
  
Hazel orbs slowly fluttered open, squeezing shut as a bright light overhead that flooded his face. He groaned again, trying to remember what had happened.  
  
"Well, about time princess," spat a voice and Blaine became infinitely aware of its familiarity but as he was still disoriented, he couldn't put his finger on why. "That stuff knocked you out real good, didn't it?"  
  
That was when it registered. Knocked out. Of course. Kurt had to go to the office for an emergency and Blaine had been home alone when the power went out. Someone had broken into the house and used the cloth method to render him unconscious.  
  
"Where am I?" Blaine muttered. He blinked a few times, trying to get his eyes to adjust to the light. A brochure was thrust into his face.  
  
"Look familiar?" the man asked and Blaine was still trying to put his finger on why the voice sounded so familiar to him.  
  
Blaine had to blink to clear his fuzzy vision but when he had, he found himself staring at the Moscow brochure  
  
"This really is a nice hotel. They were so kind to let me use their basement," the man ground out. And that was when it hit him. The sarcasm, the higher pitched voice, the annoyance, it all lead up to one person but it didn't make sense.  
  
"Kurt?" he asked weakly.  
  
A round of laughter filled the room, maniacal laughter that definitely didn't sound like Kurt. This didn't make sense. Did his fiancé have split personalities? Why would he do this to Blaine? Was the emergency a setup to make him look innocent?  
  
"Kurt, why are you doing this?" he asked, voice still weak. Blaine finally found the strength to turn his eyes on his captor. The man standing in the room, still holding the brochure was the perfect mirror image of his fiancé. Except that his hair was an unruly mess, his eyes held no emotion in their depths, and his clothes looked suspiciously second-hand. Kurt was a fashion designer. There was no way he'd ever let himself get this disheveled. "You're not Kurt," Blaine finally determined.  
  
The maniacal laughter continued for a moment. "Brilliant deduction Scooby," he spat sarcastically.  
  
"Who the hell are you than?" Blaine managed to spit out. He was becoming more aware now. He was sitting in a chair with a single bright lightbulb swinging above his head. His hands were tied together behind his back, around the back of his chair and he now took notice that his ankles had been bound to the chair legs.  
  
The Kurt lookalike regarded Blaine for a long moment. "I'm the reason why Kurt won't come to Russia," he said finally.  
  
Blaine stared for a moment. So Kurt wouldn't come to Russia because of this guy who looked freakishly like him? What the hell was going on? Where was the point in this?  
  
The man walked up to Blaine and gripped his face in his hand hard. "Of course, you're just bait. Kurt will do anything to get you back."  
  
He roughly released Blaine's face and walked away from him. What the hell? Why was this guy after his Kurt? His sweet precious Kurt? Somehow, Blaine knew he had to get to the bottom of this.  
  
* * *  
  
Cops swarmed the Hummel-Anderson residence, belittling the place for clues. Unfortunately, all they had to go on was the kicked in back door and the severed power lines. Whomever had broken in had been wearing gloves because they found no fingerprints. However, there were dried mud prints on the outside of the back door.  
  
Kurt was wrapped in a blanket with a hot cup of tea, leaning against a cop car. His eyes were red rimmed and he was sniffling. He didn't think he had any tears left to cry.  
  
"Kurt?" asked an officer, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. Kurt sniffed in response but didn't look up. "Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt your fiancé?"  
  
Kurt started to shake his head before he stopped abruptly. "The letters," he said quietly. The cop gave him a confused look. "Someone has been sending me anonymous letters at my office the past few weeks. All of them have been threatening Blaine. They're typed up and signed only with the letter L."  
  
The officer nodded. "Do you know who L is?" Kurt shook his head.  
  
"No. Blaine has no enemies. Everyone loves him. Besides, I don't think Blaine is the kidnapper's real target," he said as realization suddenly hit him.  
  
"What do you mean?" the officer asked, pulling out a note pad.  
  
Kurt looked at him, shaking his head. "If Blaine was the intended target, than the letters would have been sent directly to him but they weren't. They were sent to me. I think this person is using Blaine to get to me." His voice was very quiet by the end of his theory.  
  
"That's a pretty plausible assumption Kurt," the officer said. "Okay, do you know anyone who might want to hurt you?"  
  
Again, Kurt started to shake his head before he remembered something else. Another letter, yellowed with a few years age and buried away in an old shoe box in the hall closet.  
  
* * *  
  
 _Dear Kurt,  
  
Don't think that just because you survived my little attack and got out of Russia, this means that we're done. We will be connected for all eternity. Even after we die. And dear dear sweet man, I plan to make sure you die before me. Than I can take your place and no one will ever know. You aren't the only actor here Kurtie.  
  
Until then, sleep with one eye open. Pleasant dreams.  
  
-Kaden_  
  
* * *  
  
Slowly, Kurt nodded his head.  
  
"And who would that be?" the officer asked.  
  
Kurt's eyes turned and gazed out ahead of him, staring but not seeing. For the first time in his life, someone other than his family would know the truth.  
  
"My brother."  
  
* * *  
  
 _"Just a little more Elizabeth. Almost there!" The doctor was doing her best to encourage Elizabeth Hummel who was midway through delivering her first child. Burt was holding her hand and doing his best to ignore the pain from her crushing his as she battled the pain that was child delivery. He brushed some hair from her sweaty forehead.  
  
"You got his honey," Burt encouraged. Elizabeth's beautiful blue eyes looked over at him. She gritted her teeth and pushed down on her stomach once more as Burt counted slowly to ten.  
  
Suddenly the room was filled with the cries of a baby, meeting the air, though they were soft as though the child were just a bit annoyed about being taken from his squishy waterbed.  
  
"Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Hummel, it's a boy!" the doctor called out happily. Burt grinned wholeheartedly and kissed his wife, who though exhausted was just as happy. They had a son, a perfectly beautiful baby son.  
  
As the baby was placed on Elizabeth's chest while they cleaned him off and waited for her to deliver the placenta, Burt took in the features of his new son. He had his mother's pale skin and chestnut hair and Burt could only hope he would have Elizabeth's eyes. Kurt Elizabeth Hummel was nothing short of beautiful.  
  
The placenta was delivered and the doctor went to stitch up a tear caused by Kurt's passage through the birth canal when she stopped short.  
  
"Elizabeth?" she questioned uncertainly. The Hummels both looked at her as Kurt was taken to the warming bed to be properly cleaned up and wrapped.  
  
"Is something wrong doctor?" Burt asked.  
  
The doctor hesitated. "Not wrong per say. I'm just going to check inside you for a moment Mrs. Hummel." Elizabeth gave her husband a concerned look.  
  
She winced slightly when the doctor's fingers penetrated the canal. After a moment, the doctor whispered to a nurse who widened her eyes in surprise before hurrying out of the room.  
  
"What's going on?" Burt asked gruffly.  
  
The doctor looked up at them with a small smile. "I don't want to alarm you but Mrs. Hummel, were you aware that you were carrying twins?" she asked.  
  
Elizabeth stared at her wide-eyed. She and Burt exchanged glances with each other before she shook her head.  
  
"No. A-are you sure?" she asked quietly.  
  
The doctor nodded. "Positive. I just felt the head."  
  
As if confirming the doctor's assumption, a contraction waved itself over Elizabeth's body and within moments she found herself pushing again for the delivery of a second baby she hadn't even known she was carrying.  
  
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that Burt was panicking. They were prepared for one baby, not two. Burt made decent money with his garage but it certainly wasn't enough to raise two children right then. Especially with Elizabeth having just quit her job to be a full-time mother to Kurt. He would be fully relied upon to take care of the family.  
  
So it was as Kaden Elijah Hummel entered the world that the Hummels made the hardest decision they ever had to make. They would put the second twin up for adoption. And he was defiantly more fussy than his brother anyway.  
  
Even so, they vowed that it wouldn't be fair to Kurt to keep it from him, so they decided they would tell him about Kaden when he was old enough to understand.  
  
And that was that. Aside from a few wayward visits every so often, the Hummels were cut off from their second son's life. He grew up a part of someone else's family, a family that turned out to not be the best for him.  
  
It was for this reason, Kurt had never told a single person that he had a twin brother._  
  
* * *  
  
"Precious precious Kurt," the lookalike said, rocking back and forth in his chair and staring at Blaine. He was toying with a knife between his fingers. "Precious Kurt who got everything. He got our parents, he got the life I should have had and why? All because he was the first-born. All because mom and dad were never told they were expecting twins. All because they weren't prepared to take care of both of us. Well why didn't they get rid of him?! Why me?! Huh Blaine?! Why?!"  
  
Blaine just stared at him. He had absolutely no idea what this man was talking about. He didn't even know Kurt had a twin.  
  
"I didn't know Kurt was a twin. He never said anything," Blaine said flatly. Somehow, he wasn't mad at Kurt. If Kurt knew this was how his brother was, he didn't blame him for not telling anyone.  
  
The other scoffed. "No, he wouldn't have, would he? Not like he ever cared."  
  
Blaine scowled. How dare he! How dare he say Kurt didn't care! Kurt cared more about other people than he did about himself.  
  
"Don't you ever say that again!" Blaine shouted at him.  
  
Wrong thing to do. The other jumped up and pressed the knife firmly to Blaine's throat.  
  
"What are you going to do about it, huh?" Blaine swallowed, daring to lock his eyes on the man's. "Anyway, how can you be sure? He never told you about the threatening letters I'd been sending him, did he?"  
  
Blaine stared at him. "What?" he asked.  
  
The man snickered. "I was sending him anonymous letters threatening you Blaine. You were too easy to catch so I guess he didn't take them seriously."  
  
For a moment, Blaine forgot to breathe. No. Kurt wouldn't think it was a joke, right? His sweet beautiful Kurt wouldn't dare to think someone threatening Blaine was a joke, would he? No, he wouldn't. There had to be some other explanation.  
  
"I don't believe you," he said flatly.  
  
More chuckles. "Suit yourself. I guess we'll find out when he gets here."  
  
Blaine stared at him. "Where is here?" he asked, realizing this Kurt lookalike never gave him a direct answer.  
  
"I thought I made that clear," he snarled, throwing the brochure at Blaine. It hit Blaine in the chest before falling to the ground. The curly-haired man looked down at it. That was when it clicked into place.  
  
Hadn't the man said something about the hotel in the brochure letting him use their basement?  
  
"We're in Russia?" he gasped.  
  
A slow smirk crossed the man's face and he snickered. "The very same. Now let's see if Kurt really loves you enough to come after you, once he figures it out."  
  
* * *  
  
Kurt was at a loss. He had this daunting feeling that Kaden was responsible for this but it didn't add up. His twin had the motive, the manic attitude, the desire, the jealousy, everything he needed to be the last piece of the puzzle concerning Blaine's kidnapping. But where did the L come in? Why would he sign his name L?  
  
Sipping a second cup of tea as he sat in the police station, waiting for his dad, Carole, and stepbrother Finn's flight to get in, he mused over everything he knew.  
  
Kaden's middle name was Elijah. It started with an E just like Kurt's. The only part of his name that had changed was his last name. So there was no connection to L there. The only thing the pale man could think of was that Kaden had changed his name sometime after Kurt had escaped from Russia.  
  
Again, his eyes roamed down to the scar on his stomach. He hadn't told his family about the second attack. The one in the hospital. Subconsciously, Kurt's hand went up to his throat. He could still feel the imprint.  
  
* * *  
  
 _"Mr. Hummel," cracked the nurse in very rough English. Kurt could barely understand her. He was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. He merely nodded to show her she had his attention. "You have a visitor."  
  
Kurt froze. Why would he have a visitor? He wasn't a minor at all. He was twenty-two. He'd begged hospital staff not to make the long distance call home to his parents back in Ohio. He didn't want them to know. He would explain it later. So, if they didn't know, who in their right mind would be visiting Kurt in a hospital in Moscow, Russia? The only person who knew him that knew of the attack was…  
  
"…Kaden," he muttered under his breath. The man identical to Kurt walked in with a false expression of concern and a bouquet of flowers accompanied by a get well balloon. "You're not fooling anyone," Kurt said, tearing his eyes away and staring back up at the ceiling.  
  
"Now, now, is that anyway to greet your little brother?" Kaden replied in a falsely sweet voice. He turned to share words in Russian with the nurse and she left the room, pulling the door shut behind her.  
  
The moment she was gone, Kaden dropped the façade. He carelessly threw the flowers to the floor and wasted no time marching right up to the bed and wrapping his hands around Kurt's throat.  
  
Kurt gasped, beginning to wretch for air.  
  
"I thought I had done you in Kurtie. No matter, I'll just try harder," Kaden said. He increased the pressure on Kurt's throat squeezing harder and harder.  
  
Kurt was choking. His eyes were bulging in their sockets, flickering as his face started to turn blue with the lack of oxygen. Kaden had to be crushing his windpipe. Very little air was passing through his airway if any at all.  
  
More and more pressure and Kurt blacked out, just as he heard the heart monitor begin to beep faster as his heart was working harder, clearly sensing his body was in distress.  
  
Kaden panicked with the sound change on the monitor and he released the pressure on Kurt's throat and ran from the room before doctors and nurses came by and managed to get Kurt stabilized._  
  
* * *  
  
Kurt had spent the rest of the stay on oxygen and visitors were no longer allowed in to see him. He hadn't said anything about what had happened but the bruising on his neck in the form of handprints suggested he'd been nearly strangled to death. They weren't taking any chances.  
  
When he'd returned from Russia, he told his parents and stepbrother about the knife attack but he mentioned nothing about Kaden trying to strangle him in the hospital.  
  
Burt was in a rage. He wanted to do something. He wanted to take the people who had raised Kaden to court. He was so sure that had his other son been raised by him like he should have been, he never would have turned out this way.  
  
Kurt was now wondering if Kaden had killed anyone else at all. He bit his lip.  
  
"Kurt?" said a voice and the twenty-five year old looked up. The same police officer who had questioned him earlier was standing in the doorway. Burt, Carole, and Finn were with him.  
  
"Dad!" Kurt cried. He jumped up from his seat and threw himself into his dad's arms. He sobbed uncontrollably into the man's flannel clad shoulder while Burt did his best to comfort his son.  
  
"It's going to be all right Kurt," Burt said. Carole was watching them sympathetically and Finn just looked utterly lost, like someone hadn't fully explained the picture to him or something.  
  
The officer gestured for Kurt's family to enter the office and shut the door behind them. They all took seats, Kurt clinging to his dad and quietly crying into his shoulder.  
  
"Mr. and Mrs. Hummel, Mr. Hudson," the officer started. "I'm Officer Branson. I'm in charge of Blaine's case." The three of them nodded and he went on. "Kurt seems to think the only person likely to do this is his brother." Finn looked appalled and opened his mouth to say something when Kurt cut him off.  
  
"Not you Finn," he said in a choked voice and the taller man shut his mouth.  
  
Burt narrowed his eyes. "I don't get it," he said, "Why would Kaden kidnap Blaine?"  
  
Kurt finally lifted his head from his dad's shoulder and looked him in the eye. "To get to me. He's using him as bait dad. I've been receiving anonymous letters at work for a number of weeks now, and they've all been threats to Blaine. If the kidnapper meant to target Blaine, I'm sure the letters would have gone to him, not me."  
  
Officer Branson nodded. "Your son's right Mr. Hummel. If Blaine was the kidnapper's main focus, why would Kurt be receiving anonymous threatening letters?"  
  
Burt seemed to think this over for a moment. "Where is Kaden?" he asked.  
  
"Still in Russia I think," Kurt said quietly.  
  
Burt looked skeptical. "How would he have kidnapped Blaine if he's still in Russia Kurt?"  
  
Surprisingly, it was Finn who answered him. "Kurt did say he'd been getting the letters for weeks prior Burt," he said. He gave his head a short shake. "He didn't do this on a whim. He took the time to plan it."  
  
Kurt stared at him wide-eyed. Who knew Finn could be a logical thinker?  
  
Officer Branson nodded again. "Kurt, can you think of any reason why Kaden would kidnap Blaine?" he asked.  
  
The pale man furrowed his brow. "The only thing I can come up with is to lure me back to him. But I still can't explain the L."  
  
"L?" Burt asked.  
  
Kurt nodded. "The anonymous letters were all signed with the letter L."  
  
"What does the letter L have to do with Kaden?" Carole asked.  
  
"That Mrs. Hummel, is what we are still trying to figure out," Officer Branson said.  
  
Kurt sighed heavily and ran a hand over his face. "I guess I have no choice."  
  
"Dude, what are you talking about?" Finn asked.  
  
Kurt glared at him. "Don't call me dude Finn."  
  
"Sorry, but what do you mean you have no choice?"  
  
"I have to go to Russia," Kurt deadpanned.


End file.
